On the Line
by 001001000110
Summary: Ivan was working in a adult phone service when someday his client was happened to be his classmate, Lovino. Some incomplete session turned into a live action given the right chance and circumtance. How so? AU, human names, mature theme, shonen-ai. Mainly RussMano, mention of SpaMano and SpaBelgie. Please read and enjoy.


**Disclaimer : Hetalia is a lawful property of Hidekazu Himaruya. I am merely borrowing his character for entertainment purpose only and I make no profit by it.**

**Warning : adult theme, shonen-ai, might be OOC, and probably some spelling and grammar mistakes. While I would like to hear any constructive comment you could give to me, if you start to bring your childish complaints about how I shouldn't pair one guy to another, we're going to have a serious problem. Mainly RussMano and mention of SpaMano and SpaBelgie.**

**A/N : this work is dedicated to Silan Haye, because she's simply awesome. She's one of neverending fans of Romano while I'm one of neverending fans of Russia and we like each other, so this pairing was made. Nah, kidding. Anyway, off to the story.**

Ivan Braginsky was living a normal life at Brooklyn, New York, as normal as a 21 years Russian could get while living in a foreign country. He attended some college he didn't really bother to remember the name, and he was doing a part-time job for support because he was living alone. He would say that his daily routine was pretty dull; waking up in the morning, going to college, heading to work, going back home, sleep, and tomorrow he was going to repeat the schedule all over again. But he preferred it that way. Not because he didn't love challenges. It's just because he used to live a thrilling life, now he wanted a peaceful—if not boring—one instead.

Despite the ordinary routine, his job was quite interesting. He worked in 'Hands On', a service of phone-sex hotline. No one really knew he worked there, and he didn't feel like telling when anyone asked. He just gave a vague response and eventually the questioner would let it go.

It wasn't like he couldn't find another job. He had tried some part-time job here and there, but none of it was giving him as much payment with as less actual effort. With his quite packed college schedule, he couldn't afford any job that require more that six hours a day if he wanted more money. Thus, he kept his current job secret if he didn't want the principle kicked him out of the university.

He quite liked his job. It was easy money, really. All he needed to do was saying something erotic to turn on his client, and whether or not his client satisfied, he still would get the money. The funny thing was that he got more male clients than the female one, even if the directional calling was completely random to anyone who was free. He didn't complain, though. He found he'd rather enjoy talking to men because he had the **exact** idea how to pleasure them. Women, not so much.

So it was Wednesday, his routine was supposed to be ordinary like usual. However, something unexpected was coming from a certain client when he was doing his job.

"Hands On, the sex hotline. Good evening. How can I help you?"

He used to get a sultry tone as an answer, or a little stuttering when it was a newbie. He got the last.

"Er… H-hello?"

It was a male once more. "Yes, sir. How can I help you?" The Russian repeated his question with a hint of seductive tone.

There was a short pause on the other end, some mumbling, and the voice was back. "I… Oh, shit. I didn't really know how to do this."

Ivan couldn't help but chuckled. "Alright, let start with your name."

"Um…" There was a slight hesitant that sounded like he was contemplating between telling his real name or not. "Lovino."

_Lovino? Could it be that Lovino, the ruthless Italian guy that was his classmate at Arts?_

He decided not to ask, but started to make a mental image. "Okay, Lovino. How're you today?" he began with a cheerful tone.

"Quite fine, but you didn't tell me your name."

"Ah, my name is not important matter."

"It has nothing to do with importance. It's called manner, dumbass."

Lecturing him about manner and then went right out to insult him? "You can dub me with any names you like, something that might give you additional pleasure while calling it." The wink at his voice was as clear as if he was doing it on live.

He heard some mumbling again, some fragments he caught were definitely Italian curse words. "Okay, then. I may… I may call you 'Russia'."

"Russia?" As in country?

"Yes. Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing. So you can call me 'Russia', now." He was about to tell the guy that it was the country where he was born but decided to against it. "So… where are you now, exactly?"

"In my apartment."

"I mean…somewhere specific in your house. Like kitchen, living room, or whatever."

"Oh…" The tone was sounded almost embarrassed. "I'm in my bed."

"Well…" He dragged his voice in a suggestive manner. "It certainly makes everything easier, in case we make a mess."

He was not really sure, but somehow he could feel the guy was blushing. "You're not the one cleaning the mess anyway…" was his half-assed retort.

An amused chuckle couldn't stop escaping from his mouth. "Tell me about your looks, Lovino," he said almost warmly, an exact opposite of him off the line. "It helps me imagining you in my head while helping you."

"I'm good looking, if that's what you mean," Lovino said proudly. Ivan couldn't say otherwise, the man was quite popular in college. He certainly was aware of his own good looks. "I have brown hair, brown eyes, and straight nose. I stand to five feet and seven inch, and weight at about a hundred and sixteen pounds."

_He's definitely __**that**__ Lovino._

"That sounds nice, I bet you really look nice too," Ivan said. That part was true anyway. "I can't seem to take my mind off of you. That's why I am walking closer and closer to you, wanting to see the more of you. I want you, Lovino…"

To be honest, it was a bit weird. Ivan had been used to flirt with his client all the time, but at those moments he had no thoughts about who it might be. He just used a blank face, the words flew with no problem whatsoever. However, it was different when you know **exactly** who it was on the other side. It felt like he was flirting to the man for real.

It certainly was only his problem, not Lovino's.

"Well, of course. Who wouldn't want me?" He said rather egotistically, his confidence somewhat was brought up on the surface by Ivan's constant sweet talk.

"Yeah, especially me," Ivan replied with a low chuckle. "I crawl on the bed beside you, touch your face with my hand. How I always dream that pretty face. I lean closer, our faces inches away as I look into your eyes. Can you feel me?"

"Ah… Yeah…"

It looked like he was finally caught on.

"I can feel your breath tickling on my face, the scent of you sent my body on fire. I had never felt this way to anyone, but it seems like you have a magic on me. I can't get enough of you."

"Mmm…"

"I tilt your chin up, your smoldering eyes clash with mine. We know we want each other. I lean down and ki—"

"Shit! Hold on!"

That… was certainly ruining the moment.

Ivan sat there, a bit dumbstruck by the sudden abrupt. He heard some noise in the distant, muffled yelling, and suddenly Lovino was on his ear again, whispering rather indignantly.

"Crap! My boyfriend's home. Talk to you later, Russia."

Later? He was going to call again?

Ivan hadn't gotten any chance to ask because his ear was hearing a dial tone. He looked at the phone as if he was looking at Lovino's face with a bit confused and amused expression. He didn't get to the intimate talk with the guy, but he certainly gave the Russian something to think about.

Lovino had a boyfriend.

But he called a sex hotline.

Why?

Followed by a rather, somewhat unrelated one.

Why the hell he was calling him 'Russia'?

It was not like he cared, it was just quite interesting part. Lovino certainly didn't call Hands On just because of pure curiosity. There must be some reason, but it couldn't be lack of sex because he had a boyfriend. Ivan shook his head at the thought, he had no business in the man's love live whatsoever so he was not going to think about it. He was doing his job and he needed not to ask his client some personal question.

He almost forgot about it when on Sunday evening his phone rang once again.

"Hands On, the sex hotline. Good evening, how can I help you?"

"Russia?"

_He __**did **__call again._

"Evening, Lovino," Ivan greeted and couldn't resist adding, "Cheating on your boyfriend again?"

"I'm not cheating, you jerk!" was the hot reply from the other side of the line. "It's not like I'm having sex with you for real. It has no difference with porn!"

"Easy, Lovino. I'm not here to judge, I was just teasing. It was all your business and I have no desire in nosing around," Ivan assured the man rather quickly. It was not good if your client got angry to you when you were supposed to pleasure them, was it? "How's your day?"

"Bad," he grumbled in a low tone. "That's why I call you."

"Well… I can always try to make it better."

"You almost made it worse."

"But I didn't," Ivan replied. Lovino's tone was still a bit snappy, but he knew the man wasn't mad anymore. "Are you on the bed?"

"No, I'm in the kitchen," he said hastily. "I was making dinner but figuring out that I'm going to eat alone, so I decided to stop bothering myself and get some time to sit and relax."

He was indirectly saying that his boyfriend was out for the night, if him eating alone was any indication. That meant they won't get interrupted again.

Somehow it made Ivan grin in anticipation.

"What were you making?"

"Pardon?"

Was he spacing out? On him? While on the way of having a phone-sex?

"I said 'What were you making?'. You know, the food for your dinner."

"Ah, yeah. I was making some pasta, chicken, salad, and maybe _vol au vent _for dessert."

"So you can cook," Ivan nodded to himself before continuing, "I love a man who know their way to make good food. I could always sneak on them while busying themselves in the kitchen and hug them from behind."

"That won't work on me," Lovino said with a breath of laughter. "I probably hit you with a pan for startling me. Or worse, I might stab you with a knife I was holding."

"Oh, my… Aren't you a sadistic one," he commented teasingly. For some unknown reason he had yet to understand, he was glad that Lovino's was seemingly in a good mood again.

"It's not sadistic when it's not intended."

"I'd still sneak on you. I wrap my arm around your waist, kiss your shoulder softly. I pull you close to me, feeling your body heat against mine. It's warm, isn't it?"

"Yeah… It feels nice…"

"I steer you away from any cooking activities you're currently doing, turn you around and lean you on the kitchen counter. I nuzzle your neck, breathing on your scent, nibble on your flesh lightly."

"That… tickles…" Lovino said rather breathily. It looked like he was quite wrapped on his fantasy.

"It turns you on," Ivan chuckled, his voice must carry the sexy quality his peers often told him. "I slid your shirt sideway, exposing your collarbone. I suck lightly, marking you. I lick the bruised skin and press you even closer to me. Man… You don't even know how you make me want you more and more."

Now that he thought about it…

He shook his head mentally as he heard a shallow breathing from the other side. It seemed that Lovino was really getting it on. He imagined that the Italian guy must be in his kitchen, sat on the chair with his eyes closed, tried to get absorbed in his own little world. But what he couldn't imagine was when Lovino said in a soft and dreamy whisper…

"Kiss me, Russia…"

Something stirred inside of him that led him to sit speechless for a while. Ivan didn't know why, but the simple request had different emotion that laced on that voice. He didn't immediately answer, but when he was about to open his mouth, a dial tone was heard.

What. The. Hell.

He always knew that the Italian had a short temper. He was often the witness when Lovino snapped to anyone that had pissed him off in anyways. Even if with that fact, Ivan highly doubted that he would hang up on him just because he gave a bit slow response. He waited for few minutes, but eventually let it go when the guy didn't call back.

Just his luck to have the session interrupted. Twice.

He didn't hear anything about Lovino the whole following week. He just saw him occasionally in his art class, but they never really talked in real life. The next Thursday he saw him having a row with some guy from his Literature class in front of Physic Lab, but he didn't stop to see. He wasn't going to be involved in anything that was not his business.

Ivan tried not to think too much about it, but he couldn't fool himself. Every time he was picking up calls at Hands On, more than half of him was hoping that it would be Lovino. He didn't really know why, but is has something to do with the fact that he never got into a proper sex talk with the guy. It wasn't even halfway to the foreplay. It was a bit irritating, and Ivan didn't like feeling unsatisfied. He knew it should be the other way around, but it was starting to get on his nerve.

Boy he was getting obsessed.

By the end of next week, he started to forget the whole deal. Maybe Lovino decided that it's not good after all, looking for sexual pleasure from another guy, however indirectly. When the phone rang, he picked it up with no thought of Lovino.

"Hands On, the sex hotline. How can I help you?"

Apparently, fate loved to mess up with him.

"Took you long enough to pick my call, Russia."

Damn it.

"Well… I'm a quite a busy man," he replied with a shrug on his voice, but he wouldn't deny that he was happy to hear Lovino's voice again. "How much do you spend your cash to get me?"

"A hundred bucks," Lovino chuckled, and it sounded so wonderful in Ivan's ear. "The third was some French guy insisted that he was going to serve me but I told him to back off. I have to try two more times to finally end up in your hand."

Oh, the delicious innuendo.

"How are you?" Despite that it wasn't a necessary question, he couldn't resist to ask. "I have been waiting for you since last week."

"Really?" Lovino's chuckle had turned into an amused laughter. "Well… There was a little this and a little that, so I just have the chance to call now. Was it because of the interrupted session?"

"You're right, yes," Ivan grinned even if he knew the other guy wouldn't see it. "Why did you hang up on me?"

"I didn't. It was the damn electricity going down and fucking stupidly affected the telecommunication line."

"I see," he nodded to himself. "You didn't answer my first question."

"Which one?"

"How are you?"

"Ah," his voice wavered slightly. "Not so good but it will turn out alright. I'm sure."

"Did something happen?" He understood the first rule of his job was no getting personal. But he knew this guy on person and he couldn't help feeling a little bit worried. "Was it your boyfriend?"

The silence was so tense Ivan didn't realize he was holding his breath.

"We broke up." His voice was tight, crisp, almost sounded indifferent but he knew better. "He was having a secret relationship with some Belgian chick in her sophomore year but I couldn't care less. At least it wasn't me who's cheating."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ivan said. It was half true, because he admitted to himself that he was quite happy with the situation. He was attracted to Lovino and now he was single, he was not going to let it go. He stood up when he had an idea. "Hey, where are you now?"

"On my bed."

"I mean the place. Are you in your apartment or where?"

"Of course I'm in my apartment. It's mine and Antonio is moving out. Actually, I threw the bags."

Ivan was mouthing to Francis that he was going to go home early after switching the line to his personal mobile when Lovino finished that sentence. "Were you kicking him as well?"

The laugh was so worth the long wait.

"I hadn't gotten the chance. But I definitely would if I could."

Ivan put his shoes on and opened the back door. It was a very good coincidence that his place of work happened to be just ten minutes walk from Lovino's apartment. He knew where Lovino lived when he caught the guy was inviting his friend over to finish their art project some days ago. Here's the plan : why just voice when he actually could get his hands on for real?

He just had to distract Lovino so he didn't figure out his surprise.

"He totally deserves that, cheating on one awesome guy just like you. He has no idea what he's leaving behind."

"You don't even know me but I'm not going to argue with you on that subject. He's a total idiot anyway. If he knew, he wouldn't have any idea about cheating at the first place."

"True." He was stepping into the apartment lobby and quickened his pace. "Which floor and what number is your room?"

"Why do you want to know anyway?"

"No reason. I just have a habit about paying attention to detail."

"Ninth floor, room 173."

Ivan punched the number nine after slipping into the elevator. He hummed slightly as he looked at the changing number. "I love high places. It gives me a nice view and feels like I'm the king of the world when looking at people beneath."

"Why am I even not surprised?" he snorted rhetorically.

"You call me 'Russia', you believe I hold the image of the king."

"That wasn't meant to be answered."

"Oh, but I think there's something you need to answer now. Your door."

Ivan pressed the button outside the door that certainly would ring the bell. He heard the Italian was cursing rather loudly and he had to suppress his own laughter, lest he'd get caught. "There's fucking somebody on the door. Should I hang up?"

"You don't need to. It maybe just a salesperson and you can bring the phone because I want to hear the sound when you slam the door close on their face."

"Maybe you're right," Lovino conceded as the Russian could hear some movement inside the apartment. The voice was slowly coming from both the phone and back of the door. "If that's the same salesperson that offered me frying pans a week ago, I swear I will—"

The voice was abruptly stopped as the door opened.

"Hi," Ivan waved his free hand cheerfully.

He almost laughed at the dumbfounded expression Lovino was currently supporting. The brunette was opening his mouth, only to close it again. The gesture was repeated for some time until he somehow found his voice.

"You… Braginsky, why are you…"

_So, he __**did **__know him actually._

"I thought you're going to call me 'Russia'."

If it was possible, Lovino's jaw would drop to the ground. "It was… you?"

"If there's any other reason why in the world I would know about that unless I was the guy on the phone all this time, feel free to tell me."

He would never think if a man could blush so prettily.

"S—shut up," he stuttered slightly, phone was clenched in his hands seeing there was no need to use it anymore when the other end stood right in front of him. "I would never guess…"

"Of course you wouldn't," Ivan couldn't help laughing. "But I really want to ask, is Russia has any special meaning to you?"

It was the first time Ivan saw a living proof of a phrase 'ten shades of red'. He never thought it was humanly possible.

Then again… maybe it was a good thing.

"Are you coming in or not?" he snapped hotly with face so red it could rival a tomato. "The salesperson may not come but I still could slam the door on your face."

"I'd rather not," Ivan smiled while stepping into the room. Once the door was closed, he turned around to face the Italian. "I will give you the usual greeting. Hands On, the walking sex is on your service. How can I help you?"

A snort came as his response.

But Ivan was not one to give up. He looked around once before plastering the most innocent look on his face while asking, "So, bedroom or kitchen?"

Lovino eyed his guest warily, a fact that Ivan was quite a stranger to him was rather unsettling. But thinking about any phone session that he could've had, it would be just the same. The only different thing was the hands he would be using. Beside, the Russian was not over-estimating himself when he said he was sex on legs. The guy was purely hot.

It could be just a one night stand.

A repeatable one, he decided before answering.

"Kitchen. I would like to see how you fare against my pan and knife."

Ivan couldn't grin any wider. For once, fate seemed to love him.

"I'd say none of it would stand a chance against my 'sword'."

The innuendo was impossible to miss and he laughed when Lovino's embarrassed yell reached his ears.

"YOU PERVERT!"

He really loved this man.

**~ F I N ~**

**So, review? ^^**


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